


Strenuous Mental Tasks

by accordingtomel



Category: Merlin (TV) RPF
Genre: Filming, First Kiss, Flirting, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, On Set
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 06:26:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10611117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accordingtomel/pseuds/accordingtomel
Summary: Colin’s sending out all the right signals; Bradley’s just too dense to see them. Thankfully Colin’s not one to play hard to get.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [awakencordy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/awakencordy/gifts).



> This was originally posted on my LJ in April of 2010.
> 
>  **Original A/N:** So this is a fic I wrote for my dear friend awakencordy’s birthday today! Happy birthday, love! Also, it should be noted that I’ve had _massive_ writer’s block for the past month+ now. Thankfully, the adorableness of [this post](http://rainating.livejournal.com/850.html) was what finally got my writing juices going again. It’s also another special day in that exactly one year ago I wrote my first Merlin fic for awakencordy’s birthday! This time, I came bearing RPS slash. Oops...? ;) Also, huge thanks to the awesome adelagia for being my beta, and doing it so quickly! You’re the best. I hope you enjoy :)

The first block of shooting series three passes by relatively quickly, so of course it would make sense that the last day in Pierrefonds would end up being the most difficult.

Bradley has been working on one particular fight scene for what feels like -- and very well may have been -- hours now, and he's exhausted, both physically and mentally. So when he hears "cut", followed by "let's take five", Bradley couldn't be more relieved for a few minutes of reprieve from this whole debacle of a scene. He sighs, running a hand over his weary face, and when he looks up again, it's to Colin's face in the distance, smiling encouragingly at him.

When Colin treks the short distance across the field towards him, Bradley instantly feels a little bit of the tension drain from his body.

"Looking good," Colin says, by way of greeting, inclining his head in acknowledgement. 

A bark of laughter escapes past Bradley's lips. "Yes, well, if that were the case then I think we'd be finished this scene by now, wouldn't you agree?"

Colin shrugs casually, folding arms across his chest and squinting slightly at Bradley as the late afternoon sun beats down on them. "I suppose that's one way to look at it," he admits.

Bradley isn't sure what other way there _is_ to look at the situation. He's been struggling with this scene all day, thrusting and parrying and trying to move the way Andreas showed him; but he's not about to argue semantics with Colin. Especially since it's more than likely that he'll win, particularly with his extensive vocabulary and penchant for enthusiastic optimism.

Bradley opens his mouth to retort something clever -- because that's just how Bradley rolls -- when he feels the weight of the sword in his hands disappear and transfer into Colin Morgan's fingers instead.

He wants to ask what Colin's doing -- why he took Bradley's sword, what he wants with it, why he decided that he should be the one to hold it -- but the words die in his throat as Colin's left hand is suddenly in Bradley's hair, fingers gently running through his blond locks and smoothing back a couple of wayward strands. The whole thing lasts no more than a couple of seconds, tops, but it's enough time to completely floor Bradley, regardless. He and Colin, once they'd managed to move past the whole awkward phase after first meeting (which thankfully hadn't lasted longer than a few weeks), were actually quite close. And neither had any difficulties expressing their friendship in a physical manner -- high fiving, punching shoulders, bumping into one another, and the like. However, Bradley could safely say that playing with one another's hair, short-lived as it'd been, didn't typically fall into that category.

Bradley quirks an eyebrow, unsure how to even respond to that. "Fixed it up, mate?" he finally asks, lamely. 

But Colin simply smiles at him, warm and affectionate and caring, and suddenly Bradley is filled with a rolling heat pricking at his skin that has absolutely nothing to do with the weather as he watches his colleague walk away, back to his place beside Richard, after handing the sword back to Bradley.

It comes as no surprise, later, when Bradley wraps up the scene in one final take, though he's not quite willing to attribute the success to any particular reason.

***** 

They are taking another break between scenes, later on that same day. Both are instructed to stay put, as this freeze in shooting is apparently only temporary (even though Bradley knows better than that by now). However, he and Colin have had conversations from practically across the entire courtyard before, so a mere five metres is nothing in the grand scheme of things, really.

"How's the weather over there?" Bradley calls out jokingly, shielding his eyes as though he's trying to see a miniature Colin miles away.

Colin rolls his eyes as a smile overtakes him, but he doesn't respond. Instead, he bends down, picking up a stick from the ground, and points it in Bradley's general direction. "Think I could hit you from here?" he asks, shaking the stick between his thumb and index finger, looking about as threatening as a wet puppy.

Bradley shrugs and holds his arms out in open invitation -- not unlike how Arthur had done upon first meeting Merlin -- taunting smirk plastered on his face. "Bring it on, Morgan," he challenges.

Colin takes that as intended, and shifts his hold on the stick, sliding his fingers down to the tip, almost as if grasping a dart. He makes a face then -- one filled with so much deliberate concentration that it takes all Bradley has not to burst out into laughter right then and there -- and narrows his eyes, hand moving through the air as he seems to ponder where, exactly, to aim the thing. A few seconds later his tongue darts out of his mouth, as it often does in times where Colin is extremely focused on something, and Bradley finds his eye drawn inexplicably to the pink flesh, wondering what it might be like to do more than just look at it. But he halts the thought even as it's formulating in his mind. Now is most certainly not the time for anything like that.

Several moments later, with no actual action from Colin, Bradley starts to get impatient. "Some time today would be nice, you know," he says, throwing all the mocking challenge he can muster into those words.

That seems to be all the encouragement he requires, as Colin squints once more before finally sending his makeshift dart flying through the air. To his credit, Colin actually manages to strike Bradley with the stick, and it bounces off his chainmail just to the right of his heart before falling to the ground.

Bradley takes this opportunity to make the whole thing into a more dramatic affair (because he likes to do that sometimes) and clutches at his chest, eyes bugging out of his head in spurious horror.

“Oh, I die, Colin. I die,” Bradley spurts out, in his worst Shakespearean imitation to date, falling theatrically to the ground -- one arm still clutching his heart, and the other spread melodramatically across his forehead.

It’s not the most hilarious stunt Bradley’s ever pulled, but for whatever reason, today Colin seems to think it’s the most brilliant thing Bradley’s done in a long while, if the hysterical laughter floating his way is any indication. Bradley takes a peek up at Colin from under his arm, and is filled with a sense of joy at seeing the mirth dancing across his features as he looks at Bradley with both affection and amusement. Colin continues to laugh, practically doubled over as he rests both hands on his thighs. Bradley thinks, then, that he needs to devote far more time in his life to making Colin Morgan happy, if this is the result.

“You’ve read _Hamlet_?” Colin finally sputters, when he’s found his voice once again and manages to right his posture.

Bradley scoffs. “Just because I’m not a bookworm like you doesn’t mean I’m completely uncultured, _Colin_ ,” he asserts, trying to affect a put-upon tone.

“Right. Cultured,” Colin agrees, voice dripping with fake sincerity as he struggles not to laugh.

Suddenly a voice from across the field interrupts their ridiculous little charade, screaming over at them, “Bradley! Get off the ground! Wardrobe is going to kill you if you get dirty!”

Bradley huffs out a longsuffering sigh and plants his hands on the ground, pushing himself into a sitting position. Admittedly he is a little surprised when he sees Colin hovering over him, a hand extended in silent invitation.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to leave your spot,” Bradley points out, for lack of anything better to say.

“And you weren’t supposed to go rolling around on the ground, last I checked,” Colin shoots back, mischievous grin plastered to his face, eyes crinkling cheerfully at the corners. He waves the hand in front of Bradley’s face once more. “So are you taking it, or what? We don’t have all day here.”

Bradley very clearly and very obviously rolls his eyes, ensuring that Colin has seen him do it, before reaching for his hand and allowing his friend to pull him into a standing position again. He smiles appreciatively at Colin, but the other man doesn’t move to let go of his hand. Instead he keeps his grip firm, thumb tracing small circular patterns on the back of Bradley’s hand for a few moments, and Bradley finds he can’t look away from the intensity of Colin’s gaze, or pull his hand away. In the inner recesses of his mind a million thoughts are screaming to make themselves heard -- everything from _this is inappropriate_ to _god, this feels good_ to _what if someone’s watching us?_ \-- but he feels frozen to the spot, incapable of action, even if he were able to make a decision. He doesn’t know what Colin’s doing, or why he’s holding Bradley’s hand still. All Bradley can register is that Colin’s thumb is rubbing along the back of his hand, and that it’s suddenly become a lot warmer than it was a few seconds earlier, and that he might possibly be enjoying this way too much for his own good.

He opens his mouth to say something -- _anything_ \-- and then, as suddenly as it happened, Colin releases his hand. It instantly feels just that much cooler.

“Guess I’d better get back to my station before I get in trouble,” Colin says with a wink, strolling casually back to his spot as if nothing at all just passed between them.

All Bradley can do is gape in confusion, and it is not until several takes later that he is able to concentrate enough to get through the entire scene.

*****

Filming later on that day ends up running far later than planned, as is often the case, especially at the end of a particular shooting block. The decision is made to re-film a couple of the night scenes that simply didn't work the first time around, and so Bradley and Colin are stuck working long past the originally scheduled hours, which, really, at this point, they should be completely used to but somehow still aren’t.

It is during one of the breaks, in which there's some problem with the lighting, that Colin wanders over to sit beside Bradley on the castle stairs.

"Long day," Colin mumbles, Irish brogue thick as he clearly is struggling to stave off sleep. He shifts on the step until he's pressed up right against Bradley's left side, in spite of the numerous feet of space they still have on either side of them. But Bradley's not really complaining. This isn't anything atypical, for them to huddle together during night shoots when they're both cold, or for them to invade each other's personal space even when there's no good reason for it. In fact, Bradley mostly finds Colin's steady presence in his life comforting. Specifically on long days, when they've run particular scenes for what feels like hundreds of times already, and Bradley's getting frustrated and cranky and just wants to go to sleep.

Bradley nods, finally. "Yeah, I'm knackered. I think I could crawl into bed right now and sleep until tomorrow night."

Colin hums his approval while Bradley stares out across the courtyard, gaze resting on nothing in particular. He loves his job -- acting truly brings him to life in ways that nothing else ever has -- but on days like this he sometimes wishes he had a regular daytime job like everyone else.

He is about to share this sentiment with his colleague when there is unexpected pressure suddenly placed on his left shoulder. Bradley turns his head to the side, and is met with a dark-brown mop of hair belonging to none other than Colin Morgan, who has apparently chosen this moment to have a nap on Bradley's arm. Bradley freezes, uncertain as to what Colin is doing. There are no fans outside any longer -- and for that he's grateful, even though Bradley generally enjoys interacting with them; however he doesn't always enjoy their scrutiny, particularly in regards to his relationship with Colin -- but there are still a large number of people milling around outside that could see them at any moment if they happened to turn their gaze in this direction. Not that Bradley particularly cares what they think, but Colin has been acting oddly all day long, and as much as he enjoys having Colin rest on his shoulder, he also needs to get to the bottom of this bizarre behaviour.

"Colin... Not that I'm complaining," he pauses, swallows, "but what are you doing?"

Colin chuckles, and Bradley can feel the vibration of the man's cheek resonate through his shoulder. "I thought that was obvious," he says lightly, as though this was completely normal, everyday behaviour for them.

Bradley rolls his eyes, even though he's well aware that Colin can't see him. So that was how he wanted to play it, then. "I know _what_ you're doing," he says, with mock exasperation. "I just don't know _why_ you're doing it."

Silence stretches between them for several moments and Bradley starts to think that he has no intention of answering the question at all.

"You have a comfortable shoulder," Colin responds finally, shifting his head so the tips of his hair are practically tickling Bradley's neck, and he has to use every ounce of strength he possesses to resist tilting his own head to rest against Colin's.

Bradley smiles in spite of himself, even though he knows Colin has purposely avoided answering his question. "I'm not just talking about right now. You've been doing strange things all day long," Bradley points out.

"Have I?" His voice is sleepy and soft, but Bradley detects a hint of teasing in his tone.

"Yes." And when there is no immediate response from Colin, Bradley figures he's going to have to elaborate. "First with the hair, then that thing with my hand, and now you're practically draped over me, sleeping," he gestures animatedly with his right hand, not knowing whether Colin's eyes are open, or if he's even paying attention, but something about the act makes Bradley feel better anyway. "I don't know what's going on with you, and I don't like being in the dark."

Another long silence-filled moment passes, and Bradley resigns himself to the fact that Colin simply might not tell him anything.

A few seconds later, however, Colin is pulling his head away from Bradley's shoulder, turning to face him directly. Bradley meets his expectant gaze, expression surprisingly serious, given the recent joking lilt to his voice.

"Have I been bothering you today?" Colin asks suddenly, sincerity radiating from every pore of his body.

"No, of course not," Bradley is quick to reassure, and his breath nearly hitches at the smile Colin shoots him in response. He swallows heavily, pushing the feeling aside. "It's just... different. Not bad, but sort of unexpected, I guess," he tries to explain, gesticulating between them again for good measure.

“Unexpected,” Colin repeats, though it sounds more like a question than a general comment.

Bradley stares down at the stone steps beneath them, focusing all his attention on one particular crack that seems quite fascinating. “Yeah. I guess...” He pauses, thoughtful. “I mean, it just feels to me like all day you’ve been--“

This time he does stop completely, realising where that sentence was leading and deciding that he can’t finish it. The idea has been on the tip of his tongue all day, but it’s only now that he realises what it actually is. He wants to say that it feels like Colin’s been flirting with him all day long, because he can’t really come up with any other reasonable explanation for the behaviour. But really -- it’s preposterous. Completely and utterly mad. Colin will ridicule him for the rest of his life, if Bradley is to finish the sentence. And that’s assuming that Colin will continue to talk to him at all if he does carry on. So he decides not to.

Except that Colin apparently isn’t going to let this rest without a fight.

“What does it feel like I’ve been doing all day?” he pushes, sounds like he’s holding onto something important, or like he’s waiting for Bradley to figure it out.

Bradley closes his eyes and desperately searches his brain for another way to finish that sentence that doesn’t involve immense embarrassment. The problem is that he’s now nervous, and Bradley’s mind never works the way it should in such situations. Which is not to say that it works all that well even in the best of times, but this should not be such a strenuous mental task. Still, he knows there has to be a safe way to get out of this situation without alerting Colin to any suspicious activity, if only he could come up with an idea _right now_.

“Bradley,” Colin says, voice imploring, and Bradley feels a hand come to rest on his chin, tilting his head up so that when he opens his eyes, he’s staring directly into Colin’s ocean blue eyes. A hot flush instantly washes over him, and even though it’s darker now, he knows he’s burning so red that someone from across the courtyard could accuse him of imitating a tomato. Colin waits several moments, as if ensuring that he has Bradley’s full attention. Bradley’s already completely forgotten about his earlier fear of someone seeing them, because at this point it’s probably already happened anyway.

“What did you think I’ve been doing all day?” he asks, with a tone resembling finality, still holding Bradley’s chin in his hand.

Bradley tries not to visibly gulp, but is only barely able to stop himself. He supposes that he might not have been as wrong as he’d originally believed, if Colin’s hand on his face and expression are any indication.

He takes a deep breath, quelling the spike of fear that jolts through his body, before plunging forward. “Well, I sort of thought you might have been flirting with me...?” Bradley suggests, and turns a shade of red darker, if that’s even possible.

Colin stares blankly at him for what feels like several minutes, expression so piercing that Bradley worries he’s just made the biggest mistake of his life and ruined one of the greatest friendships he’s ever had. He concludes that the only thing to do is start laughing, make a joke of the whole thing, and pray to whoever might be listening that he can convince Colin that this was all just one big farce.

He doesn’t make it past opening his mouth before a warm pair of lips descend upon him. Bradley nearly jumps out of his skin before he realises that Colin Morgan is kissing him, and forces his body to relax and respond. The whole thing doesn’t last nearly long enough for Bradley’s liking, but it is sweet and affectionate, and rather chaste; and Bradley feels himself swooning just a little regardless (though he’d never admit it).

“Bradley! Colin! We’re ready for you,” someone calls, but it suddenly all feels so very distant to Bradley.

Colin smirks devilishly at him, running a teasing thumb over his lips, and Bradley shivers involuntarily. “Guess you’re not quite so dense after all,” Colin says, and leans in to kiss him once more before strolling off back onto the set.

Bradley decides then that maybe, just maybe, he just might be able to get used to working these incredibly long days after all.


End file.
